Many Folds of Reason
by Jusrecht
Summary: Everybody knew, or at least had suspected why the emperor made this visit today." Lelouch x Milly


**Many Folds of Reason  
Author: Jusrecht**

**Characters/Pairing: **Lelouch x Milly

**Warning: **Future!fic, AU, emperor!Lelouch

**Notes: **This took place before my other fic on this pairing, _The Measure of Greatness_, and can be considered as a prologue/first chapter.

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She felt the weight of her mother's gaze on the back of her head as the cavalcade poured in to the Ashford estate, recently restored from ruins to a semblance of its former glory after years of utter neglect. The sky was a clear, blue expanse warmed by the glaze of the sun, a perfect canopy for the happy occasion it would soon witness and shelter.

Milly held her chin high, a subtle smile on her painted lips when a voice announced the arrival of His Imperial Majesty, Lelouch vi Britannia. A procession of black, sleek cars filed into the front of the house's main entrance and from the third one emerged the emperor in all his white imperial glory. His eyes flicked around, cool and disinterested despite the vague outline of a smile on his lips, and rested on her person briefly before moving to that of her father.

She had never seen him so nervous, his broad shoulders overwrought with tension and the clench of his hands so stiff it smothered his knuckles white. He looked almost small in front of the emperor who was evidently a younger man with a slighter stature. Her mother, who had rushed forward to her husband's side and proceed to shower His Majesty with smiles and warm welcomes, did not fare any better.

Everybody knew, or at least had suspected, why the emperor made this visit to the Ashford estate today. Milly still remembered the tense family meeting her parents had insisted to conduct just two nights ago, after a note had arrived from the palace pertaining to this visit. They, of course, had been aware of His Majesty's seeming partiality toward their only daughter as it became more evident in the last few months, but they also had never tried to address the matter openly, at least not to her. Not until that night.

Milly kept her smile steady on her face when she was beckoned to approach. Lelouch's detached poise never wavered as she delivered her lines flawlessly, inquiring about his journey with a little meandering to other relatively harmless subjects. He responded to each and every one of them accordingly, and she could not help but feel how like a play it was, how false and artificial in a way that almost made her cringe in distaste. Even the 'Sleeping Beauty' they had brought to stage – in which she had been Prince Charming and Lelouch had heroically, if a little reluctantly, accepted the role of the princess – felt substantially less unnatural than this.

They entered the house and moved into the parlour. The first ten minutes passed without any address of significance as she watched him exchanging pleasantries with her parents, empty words glossed into fine wreaths of praises. And then tea and various other refreshments were served, and the delicate façade was smoothly slit open.

"While we are on the subject of a fine day," the emperor said, his eyes barely glancing over at her direction, "I wonder if I may seek a private audience with Miss Ashford on the course of the morning."

She saw her parents curb a desire to flinch at the common address, and suppressed a dry smile that tickled the edges of her lips. Even though it was more or less true – they had been forced to leave the circle of aristocracy and the privileges it provided since the assassination of Empress Marianne – her parents had never been able to truly accept the full implications of their downfall. Lelouch, she knew, was also very much aware of this and clearly unafraid to use the knowledge to his own advantage.

"Certainly, Your Majesty," her father responded, politely if a bit strained. His smile, Milly thought, was rather painful to watch.

She found herself observing the young emperor more closely after her parents had stepped out of the room. The strains stemming from months of sitting on a throne stained by blood and lost lives were evident, deeply etched into his face, exposed despite the mask of indifference he constantly tried to wear. Oddly, they reminded her to the boy she had been so used to tease from across the table in the old council room – and the scent of peace, however thin and perhaps illusory it had been.

"I'm sure you can already guess why I'm here," Lelouch said without preamble, his gaze resting heavily on her as he took his seat on the opposite couch.

Milly smiled one of the courtier's smiles she had learnt throughout the year. "I have my guess."

"Then I'll come straight to the point," he continued, still sounding aloof although the grip his fingers had on each other might belie something more. "A kingdom needs a queen and the palace its lady. It is imperative that this role is soon fulfilled since I have ascended to the throne for almost a year now, or there may be consequences which I have no desire to encounter at all if I can avoid it."

"And you, milord?" she could not help slipping the needle into her voice when she pronounced the title – and witnessed with her own eyes how it made him flinch, despite his impulse to cover it. "What do you need?"

"A wife, I suppose," Lelouch answered, and he was scowling at her. "And don't call me that."

She felt her smile widen into a grin – it was easier now, a lot more natural. "Lelouch, you are tenser than a girl on her wedding night," she pointed out, enjoying – perhaps a lot more than she should – the wince which flashed across his face at the remark.

"You are absolutely terrible with innuendos, you know that?"

Milly chuckled. "So I've been told in far too many occasions," she admitted cheerfully as her hands busied themselves with china cups and silver teaspoons. "Here, have some tea first."

The room was veiled in silence as he sipped from his cup and she fiddled with her own. The actual apprehension of what he had said only arrived now with the quiet and lack of sound, as slowly as the stirring of her spoon in bergamot-scented tea. She had had her guess, just like her parents and everyone else, but to hear it from his own mouth was decidedly different – a lot more extraordinary. It tempted her to walk the halls of her memories, to recall those brighter, happier feelings she had once harboured for him, which she suspected were no longer there. What she had now in the cradle of her heart was its ghost, tempered into quiet affection for this boy who deserved a kinder life than what fate had seen fit to give him.

It was, she reflected, not enough to make anyone take that final step into marriage. But then again, she seriously doubted that love had any role at all in taking the few final steps of an _imperial_ marriage.

"Am I really the best candidate?" Milly heard herself asking.

Lelouch looked up sharply from his pensive contemplation on the teacup, and she could almost see all the calculations racing in his head in the span of two seconds before he allowed a wry smile on his lips. "All things considered, yes," he finally answered.

Milly responded with a noncommittal smile of her own. "I must admit that it rather surprised me," she said placidly. "My family has virtually no influence anymore among those who really matter to the empire."

"Seeing that it is you I will marry and not your family, I wonder what it has to do with anything," Lelouch replied dryly.

"And yet everything is considered?"

His eyes narrowed and Milly realised her mistake – but she had never been one to regret her words and had no intention to make this an exception. She only gave him another smile and took a few small sips from her cup, allowing the tension to subside on its own.

"You will make a fine queen," Lelouch said at last, his voice and countenance once more betraying nothing.

"I know," she inclined her head, for once solemn, "but I wonder if it's enough."

His lips curled unpleasantly. "For whom? You?"

She found herself looking at him, tempted to have her own malice on display, but restrained the desire with a half-hearted chuckle. "Well, I'm not sure you can stand me either, Lelouch, if our past were any indication," she said, almost airily. Her attempt was lost and Milly realised this when the shadow of displeasure didn't leave his expression.

"We all have changed, haven't we?" the question had left her mouth before she even knew it did.

"It is foolish to expect anything different," he bit out, "after _everything_."

But their _everything_, she wanted to say, were vastly different. Her smiles might have lost a few of their shades, but it was certainly nothing, nothing compared to how bitter Lelouch's sarcasm had grown over the years. It had once been light, amusing, an instrument to tease rather than to wound – but of course they were days long gone, separated by more than just time between then and now.

"Maybe I wish for something a happier, like the old times," she replied, feigning cheerfulness – and perhaps it sounded honest enough, because Lelouch was staring at her and there was this _look_ on his face which made her hold her breath. But the differences were too great – Nunnally, his hopes and dreams, what left of his innocence – they both knew this, and his eyes shifted away, the moment spiralling out of reach. When they eventually returned to her, he was once more the young man who had conquered an empire and cared little for anything else.

"My offer still stands. Will you accept my proposal?"

Milly swallowed her frustration and managed to present a smile. "Why, Lelouch, I must say I'm very much disappointed in you," she accused. "I certainly expected more. Don't you remember that a gentleman is supposed to kneel on one knee and present a diamond ring when he makes a marriage proposal to a lady?"

"I am unaware that the tradition is still in practice nowadays, outdated as it is," he said dryly.

"There is no such thing as outdated in the practice of gentlemanly manners," she said, her voice firm as everything eased back into place. "And surely Your Majesty agrees that an emperor must set the best of examples for his subjects?"

He looked at her, face tight but inscrutable. Milly hid a smile, and she was wondering what manner of thoughts swirling behind his dark eyes when he suddenly left his seat and proceeded to kneel next to hers.

"Will you do me the honour of being my wife and empress?" he asked bluntly, on one knee, every bit as she had demanded sans the diamond ring.

Despite herself, Milly felt her heart skip a beat. For one fleeting moment, she almost believed that they had gone back in time, the embrace of the past too sweet to resist. But the grimness on his face stood stark against the rose-coloured memories, and she was jerked back to present, the grey and white and now.

"Of course," she answered softly, after a pause. "I'll be very honoured."

She had omitted his honorific, but she knew he could hear it all the same. His smile was subdued, almost wan when it graced his sombre expression.

"Thank you."

_**End**_

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Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think.


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